


Legend of the Gourd Scarecrow

by ChibiSunnie



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Gen, Halloween, Mention of blood, Mischief Night, Original Character(s), Spooky, Urban Legends, ghost story, haunted hay ride, mention of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:53:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiSunnie/pseuds/ChibiSunnie
Summary: The Drymon Pumpkin patch is said to be haunted by a vengeful gourd scarecrow that attacks on Mischief Night. Mr. Simmons takes the class on a field trip there on that very night, where they encounter the creature from the urban legend.





	Legend of the Gourd Scarecrow

“Alright, class, listen up, people!” Mr. Simmons stood at the front of his classroom and hushed his fifth grade class. “Principal Wartz and I have a very special announcement to make.”

The class looked at Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz with curiosity. 

“This Thursday night, October thirtieth, our class will be going on a Haunted Hay Ride at the Drymon Pumpkin Patch!” 

There was a mix of cheers and groans. 

Eugene and Sheena perked up at the announcement. “Oh, boy! A haunted hay ride sounds fun!” Eugene squealed with delight as he turned to Sheena. 

Sheena returned the enthusiasm “I know! I just love pumpkin patches! Especially the mazes made out of hay bales!”

Sid vocalized his complaint, “But October thirtieth is mischief night!” 

Principal Wartz looked at Sid. “Exactly, young man. Some members of the community have provided our school with funds so that each class can haven an alternative activity to the usual ‘mischief night’ shenanigans you hooligans partake in every year.” 

Harold pounded his fist on his desk and groaned. “But a pumpkin patch?! That stuff’s for babies!” 

Stinky piped up, “I don’t know if it’s really for babies, Harold, on accounta the legend about Drymon Pumpkin Patch.” 

Harold tensed up. “Wh-wh-what legend?”

Stinky leaned towards Harold, narrowed his eyes, and dramatically answered, “The legend, of the Gourd Scarecrow.” 

A light bulb seemed to go off in Gerald’s head. “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that.” 

Sid motioned to Gerald, “Well, as the keeper of the tales, will you do the honor of telling it?” 

Gerald walked up to the front of the classroom, and everyone in the room fixed their eyes on him, with a mixture of fear and curiosity on their faces. 

“This story originated in ancient times, during Great Depression. The Drymon Pumpkin Patch used to be a small produce farm, run entirely by just one man. This farmer had a seller come every week to collect the produce, sell it in town, and give him the previous week’s profits. Times were tough back then and the farmer needed every penny to make ends meet, or he’d lose the farm. One autumn evening, the seller was robbed in the woods on his way to give the farmer the week’s profits. When he reached the farm he apologized but the farmer was outraged. In his anger he grabbed the stick he kept by the door to ward off predators and hit the seller. The blow was meant just to be a warning, to get the seller to go find the man who robbed him. But it was stronger than he intended, and the seller died.” 

“In a panic, the farmer hid the body inside of his scarecrow and covered the seller’s head with a hollowed-out gourd. The farmer was put in jail, where he died of pneumonia, but the deceased seller didn’t know that. Exactly one year later, that scarecrow came to life, animated by the seller’s ghost and seeking revenge on the man who murdered him. Unable to find the seller, the Gourd Scarecrow has come out every year since on October thirtieth, still looking to get the farmer.”

“When the Gourd Scarecrow moves from his post in the pumpkin patch, you can hear the SKRIIIIIIITCH SKRIIIIITCH as he drags his pole through the fallen leaves, trying to reach the farmer’s old house. You can see parts of his face through rotted holes in the sickly yellow-white gourd. His blood-shot white eyes shine in the moonlight, and the blood from his head wound seeps out of the crevices. His boney skeleton hands reach out from his tattered brown suit, trying to grab you and get a close look at your face to see if you are the man who murdered him. If you are not the person he screams in anguish and starts thrashing around in frustration, attacking his victims who are not quick enough to escape.” 

“Some say it’s all a big prank, publicity for the patch. Others say it’s the overactive imaginations of people visiting the patch, spooked by the Halloween and autumn spirit. Others say it’s a crazy guy, wanted for murder, hiding out in the pumpkin patch until the heat is off. All I know, is that when you go to the Drymon Pumpkin Patch on October thirtieth, you better watch out or you might be attacked by the…the GOURD SCARECROW!”

Everyone listening to the story gasped in fear when Gerald finished his tale. 

Phoebe, Eugene, and Nadine muttered in awe about how it was a great story. 

“Ah, Gerald, what a wonderful telling of that urban tale,” Simmons remarked. “But class, as we know, those are just myths. We’ll be perfectly fine.” 

Harold cowered underneath his desk. He whimpered, “No we won’t--we’re all going to die!”

Sid nervously shifted around in his desk. 

Helga laughed, “The Gourd Scarecrow? You clowns really think some scarecrow as old as my granny is really going to attack you? What a bunch of maroons.” 

Sid replied in a panicked voice, “You’re just saying that because the scarecrow’s not looking for a girl so you’d be safe.” He continued in an over-dramatic screech, “You don’t have to worry about being MURDERED!” 

Helga became confident. “Hey, that’s a good point.” She turned to Rhonda, Phoebe, Sheena, and Nadine. “Well girls, looks like we’re off the hook.”

Rhonda smirked and turned towards Harold. “Yeah, unlike the boooys.” 

Harold, still under desk, screamed, “Uuuuwwwh that’s it, I’m not going!” 

Principal Wartz peered down under the desk at Harold. “Oh yes you are, young man. For students that are especially troublesome—like you—attendance is mandatory.”

Harold crossed his arms and grumbled, “Madame Fortress Mommy.” 

Principal Wartz turned to leave. “Well, Simmons, it seems you picked a great place for your class’s trip. The haunted legend seems fun. Perhaps I’ll join your class.” Principal Wartz exited the classroom with a sly look on his face. 

Mr. Simmons continued with his announcement, “Now, since it’s the day before Halloween, everyone should come in costume! Won’t that be fun?” 

********

On the evening of October thirtieth, the school bus drove up the windy road in the middle of the forest at the base of Hawk Mountain, and reached its destination at the Drymon Pumpkin Patch. The leaves rustled in a mysterious musical way from the cool autumn breeze. Near the entrance of the patch there was a small cabin, a typical farm house, and a small storage shed for things that needed to be repaired. The small cabin was the visitor’s center and office of the pumpkin patch, and it was decorated with fake cobwebs, plastic skeletons, and ghosts made of black sheets. 

The kids excitedly leapt out of the bus. Their footsteps crunched the leaves, drowning out the chirping of crickets in the surrounding fields. The new moon was the following day, so the sliver of moonlight did not help illuminate the area, adding an extra air of fear about the unknown lurking in the darkness. 

“Class,” Mr. Simmons announced, “Principal Wartz and I will check us in and pay, so please go inside and wait in the lobby. I was told there’d be Halloween treats for you there!” 

The class cheered and ran into the small cabin. The cabin had a rustic, cozy feel to it. The logs of the walls were still visible and the rugs and furniture were warm red and brown shades. Along two of the walls were tables full of Halloween-themed goodies: apple cider, candy apples, popcorn balls, pumpkin and bat shaped cookies, bowls of candy, and even trail mix with orange-coated chocolate candy and toasted pumpkin seeds.

“Alright!” Harold shouted as he ran towards the candy, piling as much as he could onto the small paper orange dessert plates. 

The rest of his classmates followed his lead, making their own snack plates. 

In the warm glow of the cabin’s lights, the classmates were finally able to get a good look at each other’s costumes, as it had been dark when they boarded the bus. 

After getting his snack, Gerald, dressed in a lavender-gray t-shirt with blue jeans and sunglasses, walked up to Arnold, who was wearing a khaki explorer’s helmet, shirt, and shorts. “Hey, man,” Gerald greeted Arnold. “Nice jungle explorer costume.” 

“Thanks,” Arnold replied. “That’s a great Pop Daddy costume.” 

Gerald started to dance and sing the Pop Daddy TV show theme song, “Pop-pop-pop Daddy!” As he backed up, he bumped into Phoebe. 

“Oh!” she squeaked. 

“Phoebe!” Gerald exclaimed and blushed slightly. 

“Hello, Gerald.” Phoebe smiled sweetly and returned the blush. She was dressed in a long-sleeved black dress, with a frilled collar. She had a necklace with a plastic glow-in-the-dark rock attached to it. 

“Let me guess, Marie Curie?” Gerald inquired. 

“Precisely!” Phoebe answered with a small smile. 

Arnold noticed Helga approaching them, but had trouble figuring out who she was. “Helga, are you…Olga?” he inquired. 

Helga was dressed in a white blouse covered with a black shirt and short green plaid skirt, and had her hair in a black headband. She did her best imitation of her older sister Olga’s squeaky and overly-perky voice. “Oh, Arnold, the way you’re so observant is just fan-tastic! And these snacks look positively scrumptious!” Finishing her impression, Helga smirked. “Yep, nothing scarier than Olga.” 

Rhonda screamed, causing the class to look towards her. 

“I do NOT want to see that spider, Nadine! Now get it away from me!!” Rhonda, dressed in a red princess dress walked away from Nadine in a huff. Nadine, dressed as a cockroach, was holding a spider she found on the floor. 

Sid walked up to Nadine. “I think that’s pretty cool, Nadine,” he remarked. 

Nadine smiled. “Thanks. Hey, nice costume, by the way.” 

Sid was dressed in a frog costume. “Thanks,” Sid proudly replied. “I’m dressed as Sydney. And I have a little hat like mine for her so she can dress as me when we go Trick-or-Treating tomorrow!” 

Overhearing, Stinky commented, “Now that’s just weird.” 

“It’s not weird it’s---AAAHHH!” Sid attempted to defend himself before realizing Stinky’s costume. “You’re in Vampire Form! Get back evil villain!” Sid attempted to shield his face with his hands. 

“Evil villain?” Curly piped up. “I’ll save you! Engarde!” Curly pulled his small plastic sword from his pirate costume out and pointed it at Stinky. 

“I can help too, citizen, for I am….” Eugene did a dramatic dance leap across the room and stood next to Curly where he continued, “…the Abdicator!” Eugene grinned and made a superhero pose. He was wearing a blue mask, blue jacket over a white t-shirt, a red scarf and gloves, and white pants held up by a shiny gold belt buckle. 

“No!” Sheena pleaded. “Violence never solves anything!” Sheena was dressed as Mother Earth, in a handmade blue dress with green sleeves, trees and flowers embroidered on the front, and pink flowers dangling from a ribbon tied around her head. 

“Relax, fellers. I’m just dressed as a vampire. I reckoned it’d be a dandy costume on accounta Sid thinking I was one last year,” Stinky calmly explained to the growing mob. 

Sid finally put his hands down in relief. He nervously laughed and tried to cover up his incorrect accusation with, “Oh. Great idea. Very realistic.” 

“Class! Can I have your attention?” Mr. Simmons called to his class to gather together and quiet down. He was dressed as a zombie business man, with a frayed brown suit, zombie face paint, and a briefcase. Principal Wartz was standing next to him, dressed as a Disco King with a shiny white jumpsuit and poofy afro wig. 

Mr. Simmons motioned to a short, thin but muscular woman in her 60s with fluffy pixie cut gray hair. She was dressed in an orange and yellow plaid shirt and worn-out blue jeans. “Everyone, this is Ms. Drymon, the owner of the Drymon Pumpkin Patch.” 

“Hello, children,” she said sweetly in her raspy voice, likely from too many years of smoking. “I’m not just the owner; I’m the only worker here tonight, so I’ll be driving the wagon for the haunted hay ride. Most people are scared of that silly—and untrue—legend, so we don’t usually get customers on this night.”

Harold’s eyes widened in fear when Ms. Drymon mentioned the legend. 

Ms. Drymon reassured the class, “The only scary things out there are part of the ride. The wagon is split into two carts, so you’ll have to separate into groups. When you’re done with your treats, form two lines at the plastic zombie next to the wagon.” Ms. Drymon grinned, “Then we’ll get to the trick of the haunting.” 

Before the class could rush off, Simmons divided them up to avoid arguments about who went in which cart. “Okay, how about Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe, Helga, Sid, Sheena, and Eugene ride with Principal Wartz, and everyone else ride with me.” 

The kids filed out of the cabin, dropping whatever they hadn’t eaten of their snack in the trash, with the exception of Harold who grabbed more food from the table and put it into the front pocket of the white apron of his chef’s costume. Securing the small chef’s hat on his head, he scurried off so he wouldn’t be left behind. 

********

The carts of the hay ride wagon slowly dragged along the rocky dirt road, with leaves crunching underneath the squeaky wheels. Each wagon cart was full of straw, and there were bales of hay the kids could sit on. The road was surrounded by a corn field—pumpkins weren’t the only crop at this pumpkin patch—and along the side of the road were various monsters and demons painted on plywood. Within the corn field there were other scary creatures, and at various points along the track ghosts, goblins, and other scary things popped out as if they were attacking the wagon. While the animatronics were only very basic actions, their rigid limited range of motion seemed extra creepy under the dim metal lanterns that lit the path in a pale yellow-orange glow. 

CHOP!

“Aaah!!!” Sheena screamed at the plastic head falling to the ground next to them, with red-colored water dripping out of the plastic remains of the fake man who had been executed by a shadowy fabric figure just off the wagon path. She placed her hands over her eyes. “I hate bloody things!” 

Eugene put his hand on Sheena. “It’ll be okay, Sheena. Nothing here is real.”

Sheena wasn’t convinced, but put her hands down to look at Eugene. “Even if it isn’t real, it’s still scary.” 

Eugene, ever the optimist, had another approach. “Let’s try to make a silly story about them!” He and Sheena started creating fun stories about the scary creatures. Principal Wartz, who was just as scared as Sheena but didn’t want to admit it, joined in the story-telling as well. Phoebe found it clever and intently listened to their tales.

Helga rolled her eyes at them, but participated in their game to point out how fake and un-scary everything was. 

Sid intently looked around the wagon, straining to see anything in the darkness. The lights around the cornfield were set to a timer, so the only part of the wagon path Sid could see was their immediate area. But there were lanterns, almost like small streetlights, lighting the cobblestone path back to the cabin. The glow from these illuminated a portion of the pumpkin patch. Sid fixed his gaze on that spot. 

While this behavior was normal for Sid, Arnold was also staring into the field with a worried look on his face. 

Gerald picked up on Arnold’s odd behavior. “Hey, man, are you okay? I thought this kind of stuff didn’t freak you out.”

Arnold honestly replied, “Well, it didn’t used to. Until I had that weird dream about my cousin Arnie, where we were on a hay ride and were attacked by people coming out of a cornfield.”

Gerald reassured his best friend, “That was just a nightmare because you saw Evil Twin III. We’re not going to see anything really scary, especially a Gourd Scarecrow.”

“It’s the Gourd Scarecrow!!!” Sid screamed as he pointed to a figure just barely visible in the outskirts of the pumpkin patch. 

Gerald tried to calm Sid down, “It’s just someone in costume trying to scare us using the legend.” 

Sid didn’t believe him. “No! It’s him!!”

Sheena started to worry. “Wh-what if it really is the Gourd Scarecrow? Ms. Drymon said she’s the only one who works here—who else would be in costume?”

Pheobe calmly offered an explanation. “Perhaps she misspoke. Maybe she is the only official employee but there are volunteers. Often small family-run farms rely on volunteers to carry out their operations.”

Arnold, trying to give more credibility to Phoebe’s explanation added. “Phoebe’s right, it’s probably just a volunteer in a costume. I mean, look at all these things,” Arnold pointed to a rubber vampire bat hanging from an obvious wire on one of the metal lanterns. “They’re really fake. We should just try to make it fun!”

Eugene approved that plan, “Yeah, guys! There’s scary scary and there’s fun scary!”

A huge plywood zombie popped up right next to the car, causing everyone to scream. 

Eugene laughed. “See, fun scary! Look at how surprised we all were!” 

********

The wagons pulled into the pumpkin patch, which triggered the light switch and revealed the large area filled with small pumpkins, all around six inches tall. In addition to the same metal lanterns that lined the path, the patch also had strings of orange pumpkin-shaped lanterns strung up like Christmas lights and creating a glowing ceiling. These lights extended beyond the pumpkin patch to the adjacent hay bale maze. 

The kids hopped out of the wagon, dusted the straw out of their costumes, and proceed to find their perfect pumpkin. 

“Remember, you can each pick one of the small pumpkins!” Ms. Drymon reminded everyone. “When you’re done, you can either go through the hay bale maze and the exit will lead you back to the cabin, or you can walk along the cobblestone path that goes through the corn field. Oh! But be careful in the hay bale maze. We had a case of armyworms and while they’re all gone now, some of the hay bales are really weak and might topple over if you’re not careful.” Ms. Drymon climbed back in the truck that pulled the wagon, and drove it along the cobblestone path back to the office, in case someone called to make a reservation for another night. Principal Wartz and Mr. Simmons entered the patch at a leisurely pace. 

“They’re such cute and tiny pumpkins!” Eugene squealed as he picked one up. 

Stinky agreed. “They’re like the baby cousins of my Lucky Pumpkin.” 

Nadine picked up a pumpkin and stared at the ground. “Look at all these insects that were underneath the pumpkin!” she marveled. 

Harold eyed the pumpkins. “I bet my mom could make a pie out of this one!” He picked up one of the slightly larger pumpkins. “Aww I’m so hungry!” Harold put the pumpkin down and started munching on a cookie from his pocket. 

Off to the side, Helga was lovingly eyeing a football-shaped pumpkin. “This will be perfect for my shrine! Yes, a Halloween testament to my beloved who is hallowed in my heart!” 

Helga hugged the pumpkin and made a love-sick sigh. 

“Uhh…Helga?” Arnold interrupted her. 

“Arnold!!” Helga shrieked. “I was just…uhh, commenting how this pumpkin would be perfect to throw because it’s football-shaped.” She nervously laughed and pretended to make a football throwing motion with it. 

Oblivious, Arnold commented, “Yeah, it really does look like a football! That’s neat, Helga!” 

Arnold searched for his own pumpkin, but was interrupted by Sid’s screaming. 

Harold laughed at Sid jumping at a rustling noise. “It’s just leaves falling off the trees, stupid.” 

There was another rustling noise, this time sounding like footsteps coming towards them. 

“AAAAHHHH!! Something’s coming! It’s the Gourd Scarecrow!!” Sid jumped again, pointing towards the darkness. 

A squirrel bounced into the light, then started digging for acorns.

More of Sid’s classmates laughed at him, but this time Principal Wartz, who had joined them in the pumpkin patch added, “I’m amazed at how your overactive imagination has you in an almost psychotic paranoid state. I think we should make an appointment for you with our school’s counselor, Dr. Bliss.” 

Hearing another noise, this time a SKRIIIITCH sound, Sid ignored Principal Wartz’ comment and screamed, “What was THAT?!” 

“It’s probably just another squirrel!” Helga yelled, tired of Sid freaking out at every noise. 

“That ain’t no squirrel, Helga.” Stinky corrected with a twinge of fear in his voice as he weakly pointed towards the direction of the noise. 

Helga turned around to see what her classmates had noticed—a figure in a tattered business suit and a gourd face. The figure screeched, echoing in the night. It started to walk towards them, dragging the stick-like pole attached to his shirt. 

“It-it-it really is the Gourd Scarecrow!” Harold stammered.

The class started to run away from the zombie-like figure. 

Helga suddenly stopped. “Wait, why am I running? He doesn’t attack girls.” Helga stood still with her arms crossed, but the Gourd Scarecrow kept coming at her. As he got closer her face dropped and her eyes widened. The scarecrow reached out and put his skeleton-like hand on her shoulder. Helga uttered a blood-curdling scream and quickly caught up to her classmates who had just about reached the other side of the patch. 

Principal Wartz, who hadn’t moved, started to laugh. The kids heard the laughter and stopped running, turning with confused looks on their faces. The Gourd Scarecrow was also laughing, and started to take off his gourd head. 

With a tug, the gourd came off, revealing Mr. Simmons. “Class, it’s just me, Mr. Simmons! Principal Wartz and I were just playing a little Halloween trick on you. I’m not really the Gourd Scarecrow! See, it’s just a mask I made out of our classroom’s art supplies and a stick I found in the woods.” 

The class erupted into complaints of disbelief and sighs of relief. 

“What an amazing costume!” Eugene remarked. 

Gerald shook his head and laughed. “Well, they got us. That was a much better prank than what they tried on April Fool’s Day!”

Above the commotion of Simmons explaining how he hid the mask and fake skeleton hands in his briefcase, the class heard another SKRIIIIIIITCH SKRIIIIIITCH sound. 

Principal Wartz chuckled and commented, “Ok, Simmons, I think we’ve had enough fun.” 

Mr. Simmons quietly replied, “But I’m not making that noise.” 

Everyone slowly turned towards the noise in fear. Their eyes widened with terror when they saw the tall figure, dressed in a tattered brown jacket that covered his frayed dirty white shirt and mud-stained dark brown pants, slowly walking towards them, dragging the scarecrow pole still attached to his clothes. The dim pumpkin patch lights were enough to illuminate his face: a yellow-white pale gourd, with holes revealing blood-shot eyes, jagged teeth, and blood dripping from around his mouth. 

Mr. Simmons’ knees shook as the Gourd Scarecrow approached him, but he was too terrified to run away. The Gourd Scarecrow reached out his boney skeleton hands, revealing the hay that was wrapped around the boney arms under his clothes, and put his hands up to Mr. Simmons face, inspecting if he was the farmer who murdered him. When the ghost realized that Mr. Simmons was not the man he was looking for, he let out an ear-piercing wail of anguish in his gravel-like voice. Mr. Simmons went pale and fainted. 

After a moment of freezing in a cold sweat, the kids began to scream and run away. 

“Every man for himself!” Stinky shouted. 

“No, you idiot!” Helga screamed in reply. “Splitting up is how people die in horror movies!”

Curly offered an alternative, “Then let’s split into smaller groups!”

Arnold pointed towards the hay bale maze. “Good idea, let’s go in there and maybe we can lose him!” 

Arnold stopped suddenly, and looked back at Principal Wartz and Mr. Simmons with worry. 

Principal Wartz motioned that Arnold should go and in a trembling voice said, “No worries…Go with the class, I’ll just stay here with Mr. Simmons…” Despite the fear in his voice, Wartz gave Arnold a glance to indicate that they would be okay staying in the patch. 

Arnold hesitantly left them, and caught up with his classmates. 

As the kids ran into the hay bale maze, Principal Wartz slowly sunk to the ground, quietly covered Simmons with leaves, and then cowered in fear under some of the large pumpkin-vine leaves, hoping they would make a good hiding spot. His voice quieted even further to a whisper, “Please, don’t attack me!” 

His plea seemed to work, as the Gourd Scarecrow slowly trudged towards the hay bale maze. 

********

“How about this way?” Arnold led Gerald, Phoebe, and Helga through the maze. 

They turned the corner and discovered it was a dead end. 

“Nice going, Football-Head!” Helga scoffed sarcastically. She angrily scowled at Arnold and continued, “Now we’re going to be murdered for sure!”

Phoebe looked at the hay inquisitively, as if analyzing its potential. “Not necessarily,” she muttered. “Perhaps we can hide in this. Ms. Drymon did mention the structural integrity has been compromised, so they would be easier to lift, especially if we attempted the task cooperatively.” 

Gerald caught on to the idea. “Yeah! We can make a fort and make it look like it’s a dead end!” 

“Great idea!” Arnold agreed. 

Lifting the each bale together, they quickly assembled a small fort from the hay bales, and sat down inside it. Gerald put his arms around Phoebe, partially to protect her, partially because he was scared too. In the panic, even Helga gripped Arnold’s arm, and he held on to her in response. 

A muffled rustling sound, like a sssskkkkkiiiiifff, started to come through the hay bale. 

Gerald’s voice shook, “Aw man, I think I hear the skriiiiitch noise.” 

Phoebe held onto Gerald tighter and squeaked in a trembling voice, “No! That means he’s coming closer!” 

The noise continued at the same volume. 

Helga frowned and in a suspicious tone said, “Wait a minute.”

She reached into the bottom side of the fort and yanked Brainy from inside one of the weakened hay bales. 

Brainy was startled and muttered, “Uhh….Wheeeze. Wheeeze….Hi.” He gave them a small wave and sat down, brushing hay off his shirt. 

Phoebe, Arnold, and Gerald sighed in relief. 

Arnold inquired, “Brainy! I thought you were with Eugene’s group! What were you doing inside one of the hay bales of our fort?” 

“Uh…hiding?” Brainy wheezed in confusion. 

Helga growled at Brainy and lifted her fist to punch him. Arnold grabbed her hand and stopped her, causing Helga to scowl at Arnold.

“Phew, I thought for sure we were goners!” Gerald breathed out. 

The noise continued, but this time it was louder and had a distinct SKRIIIIITCH sound to it. 

Arnold froze and his eyes widened in realization. “Wait, if Brainy is in here, why do we still hear the noise out there?”

They nervously peered out of the hole in the hay made by Brainy and saw the Gourd Scarecrow’s eyes staring back at them. They screamed with terror and broke out of the fort, and ran away as fast as they could. 

Unable to keep up with the adrenaline-induced pace of Arnold’s group, the Gourd Scarecrow turned around and walked down another path in the maze. Peering down one of the hay bale corridors, the scarecrow spotted Eugene, Sheena, and Curly, crouched down in the hay. 

Eugene noticed the looming figure first. “Uhh…guys?” he squeaked as his eyes grew wider. “I…uhh…I think we should run now.” 

Sheena and Curly looked up, their eyes matching Eugene’s in fear. They bolted up and started sprinting down the maze as they screamed. 

“I don’t think there are any ways to make this into a fun scary story!” Sheena wailed. 

Curly’s plastic sword fell off as he was running, causing Eugene to trip over it. 

“Aaaaahhh!” Eugene screeched as he tumbled to the ground. He flailed his arms trying to balance, but ended up knocking over the hay bale wall in the process. It had domino effect, causing others to fall and create a ramp.

“Oh no, Eugene!” Sheena cried, turning back to look at Eugene. 

“I’m okay.” Eugene feebly reassured her from under the hay. 

Sheena tugged him out. Curly doubled back towards them and climbed up the ramp. 

“Come on!” he called. “We can climb on the top of the stacks and navigate the maze from above.” 

“Great idea, Curly!” Sheena applauded.

They climbed up the ramp just in time to avoid the Gourd Scarecrow’s boney grasp. He tried to climb up too, but being much heavier than a fifth grader, his foot sunk through the hay. With a gruff scream of frustration, he turned around, searching for the others. 

On the other side, Stinky led Harold, Sid, Rhonda, and Nadine through the maze. “Quick, this way, fellers!” he shouted and motioned to the path Arnold’s group originally took. “He already went down this path so maybe he won’t come back!” 

As they ran down the path, Nadine stared at the ground. 

Rhonda, incredulous exclaimed, “Really, Nadine, we’re being chased by a psychopath scarecrow, and you’re STILL looking at the ground observing the disgusting bugs?!”

Nadine narrowed her eyes in annoyance at Rhonda and replied, “For one, Rhonda, they’re beautiful, not disgusting. And I think I’ve found something. If this is really a scarecrow from the Great Depression era, wouldn’t his footprints be like old-fashioned shoes?”

Rhonda answered, “Well of course.” 

Nadine motioned to the ground. “You’re the fashion expert—do you see anything that could be a footprint of a shoe from that era?”

Rhonda scanned the footprints on the ground. “No…” Rhonda frowned and angrily shouted, “The nerve! That’s an imposter!” 

Harold, Stinky, and Sid stopped, turned to Rhonda and shouted, “What?!”

“Well that just ain’t right chasing a bunch of us kids if he ain’t really a ghost,” Stinky mused. 

Sid shouted to the other groups, “Guys! He’s a fake! It’s not the real Gourd Scarecrow!” 

The Gourd Scarecrow, who had been chasing Brainy, stopped in his tracks, realizing his cover had been blown. 

Curly grinned maniacally and declared, “Then I say we capture him! Ahahahahaaahaa!” 

Harold agreed, “Yeah! Let’s get him!” 

“Wait!” Sheena shouted. “If he’s not a ghost we should be careful not to hurt him! Let’s trap him instead!” 

Helga rolled her eyes. “I think you forgot the part where he attacked us. Now get him!” 

The groups started to merge together, closing in on the Gourd Scarecrow who was frantically trying to navigate the maze. 

Arnold piped up, “Sheena’s right, we should trap him so we can find out who he really is!” He turned to Curly, Sheena, and Eugene who were still on top of the maze. “Curly, Sheena, and Eugene, tell us where he is in the maze.” Arnold continued his orders, “Helga, Harold, Stinky, try to slow him down. The rest of you, create more dead-ends in the maze so we can trap him.” 

“We need something to throw at him!” Helga complained. “Harold, did you keep any of the food?” 

“…Maybe.” Harold cautiously replied. 

“Let me see!” Helga demanded. 

Harold grumbled and pulled out some plastic-wrapped candy apples, popcorn balls, cookies, and pieces of candy from his pockets. Helga grabbed an apple from Harold. 

“Hey!” Harold complained. 

“Aw pipe down ya big galooot!” Helga looked upwards. “Curly! Where is he in relation to me?”

“About ten paces forward and slightly to your left,” Curly answered. 

Helga positioned herself accordingly and tossed the apple like a baseball in what she assumed was the direction of the Gourd Scarecrow. 

She heard a muffled cry of pain. 

“Oh dear, you hit him, Helga!” Sheena complained.

“Bingo,” Helga triumphantly replied. 

“Alright you chuckle heads, let’s keep firing in the direction they tell us to. He’ll try to outrun what we throw so we can get him to move towards the trap!” Helga ordered. 

Eugene, Sheena, and Curly alerted Helga, Harold, and Stinky of the direction they needed to toss things. As they did that, the Gourd Scarecrow came closer to the path where Arnold and the others had assembled another fort, this one meant to trap the Gourd Scarecrow so they could discover his identity. 

“He’s almost there you guys!” Eugene announced. 

“Ready everyone?” Arnold asked. “Wait for the signal….” 

Rhonda, Nadine, Brainy, Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold put their hands on the sides of the hay bale walls they had created.

“NOW!” Eugene screamed. 

The kids pushed the walls, so they toppled over, pinning the Gourd Scarecrow on the ground. Only his head and shoulders were free from the hay bales. 

“Yes!! We did it!” Gerald cheered with the other kids. 

Curly leapt from the top of the hay bales and landed around the Gourd Scarecrow’s shoulders. 

“Aarrgggh!” the Gourd Scarecrow complained. 

Curly laughed in triumph. “Now to see who you really are!” He ripped off the scarecrow’s hat, and tugged off the hollowed-out gourd, revealing the imposter. 

It was a man, in his fifties, with a scruffy gray beard and hair. He was missing teeth and his face looked weary. In a gruff voice he conceded, “Fine, you got me. Now get out of my field.” 

Helga squinted her eyes and took a close look at the man. “Hey, I know you!” she exclaimed. “You’re the guy who made us hold hands on the subway and sing that goofy song.”

Harold recalled the man too. “Oh yeah…I thought the subway car was your house?”

The man sadly replied, “It was, until they decided to upgrade the car and kicked me out. I told them it was my house, but they didn’t listen. I wandered around and found this place. It’s great—there’s lots of food. You wouldn’t believe how much perfectly good food people waste! And the repair shed is a warm place to sleep at night. It’s not as great as my house, but I figured if I pretended to be that Gourd Scarecrow legend I’d scare people away and then I wouldn’t get kicked out again.” 

The class became quiet until Arnold piped up. “Maybe we should let Ms. Drymon know. She might be able to help you Mr…uuhh?” 

The man answered with a smile, “People call me Grubby.” 

“Okay, Mr. Grubby.” Arnold politely replied. He turned to his classmates. “Let’s find Mr. Simmons and Principal Wartz and head back.” Arnold looked at the tattered hay bale maze. “I think we’ll need to take the cobblestone path.” 

********

Back at the cabin, Ms. Drymon laughed when the kids told her their adventure. “You all thought there was a real ghost of the Gourd Scarecrow in my pumpkin patch?”

“But it was so real!” Rhonda exclaimed. 

Sid further defended the class, “And he had all the signs—the blood-shot eyes, the blood dripping around his mouth, the tattered brown suit, the gourd head, the boney hands surrounded by straw…”

Grubby chuckled. “My eyes were blood-shot from getting dirt in my eye when the wind blew. And my lip was bleeding from being chapped. It just worked out nice my clothes matched. There is a part of the patch full of gourds so it was easy to hollow one out for my head with this pocket knife,” he held up the rusted blade from his coat pocket. “And I found these skeleton hands in the shed of hay ride monsters that need to be repaired.” 

The class muttered varieties of “Oh, I see now.”

“So wait,” Harold asked, still confused. “There really isn’t a Gourd Scarecrow? It’s all a fake? There never was a murder?”

Ms. Drymon honestly replied, “Well, the original farmer on this property did murder his seller during the Great Depression.”

The class gasped. 

Ms. Drymon continued, “But as I said before, the legend is silly and untrue. In the forty-some years I’ve lived here, I’ve never seen a Gourd Scarecrow. Just the regular scarecrow I have in my field.” Ms. Drymon narrowed her eyes at Grubby. “And today this man pretending to be the Gourd Scarecrow…I’m not too happy to discover someone’s been trespassing on my property and that you contributed to the destruction of so much of my hay bale maze by chasing the kids through it.” 

Grubby looked at the ground. Ms. Drymon seemed to be considering something. 

“Look, I have been short-handed around here since my nephew got married and moved away back in August. If you work here—repairing things, helping me with the farm work—you can stay in his old room in the finished basement of the farm house. I can’t pay you much now, but if you’re as terrifying at being the gourd scarecrow as these kids say you are, maybe we can put the legend to good use and get more customers!”

Grubby smiled warmly, revealing his missing teeth. “You got yourself a deal!” He put his hand out to shake and make it official. Ms. Drymon shook his hand in response. 

Simmons clasped his hands and smiled. “Oh, what a wonderful display of country hospitality!” he commented in awe. 

Principal Wartz interrupted. “Yes, yes, it’s really touching. But I believe it’s getting late. It’s a school night and we have to get these children home at the designated time. We have to set a good example of being punctual.”

The kids piled on the bus, tired from their adventure. Ms. Drymon and Grubby went into the cabin to clean up. 

As the bus drove away, the glow of the cabin was enough to reveal something moving in the pumpkin patch. A tall figure with tattered clothes, skeleton hands, and a gourd for a head slowly moved around the field, creating a SKRIIIITCH SKRIIIIIITCH sound as the leaves crunched under the scarecrow pole.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first Hey Arnold fanfic that I wrote long ago for a Halloween fanfiction contest in the Hey Arnold Jungle Movie facebook group (I won second place! :D ). ^_^ I still love it, so I wanted to share it here now that I have an A03 account. ^_^ And it's perfect timing to re-post it because it's almost Halloween! :D 
> 
> The story was based on a nightmare I had about a scarecrow that lives under a dusty bridge by the train tracks, murders people by slicing their heads off with his sharp skeleton claws and buries them underneath the train tracks. @_@ I made it more kid-friendly to fit the Hey Arnold world. ^^; It was fun creating an urban legend out of it to match the spooky Hey Arnold legends like the Headless Cabbie! :D 
> 
> I'm new here so I'm not sure if we need to put the copyright disclaimers, but if so, Hey Arnold belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.


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